Falling for Love
by fbeauchamphartz
Summary: Kurt and Blaine spend their first year anniversary watching the sun rise over the ocean and reflecting on their life together...and some very specific, and kind of unusual things, that Kurt had to give up to get there. Klaine. Kurt H. Blaine A.
1. Falling for Love

**A/N: Written for the Klaine Valentines Challenge Day Nine prompt "Can't Help Falling in Love".**

 **Dedicated to sunshineoptimismandangels since something I'm maybe writing for her sort of helped inspired this, even though the two have nothing to do with each other at all. xD**

 **Warning for slightly bittersweet romantic fluff and a loose use of religious themes.**

"What do you love the most?" Blaine asks, smiling as he takes Kurt's hand. They gaze together over the water, the sun only starting to rise. The sky sings the moment light peeks out above the horizon, painting the still ocean a fantastic autumn gold.

Well, the sunrise used to sing for Kurt. He used to hear music when the peony petal rays of sun touched the sky. It split into symphonies, diffused by the clouds, turning them an ardent white, brilliant and bright before they burned away. But not anymore. But it's not all a sad loss. Sitting on the shore with Blaine, he hears a new music at sunrise. It's the music of his own heart beating, a single, stalwart instrument resounding in his chest. It's a bittersweet tune, it won't last forever, but Kurt likes it so much better.

Because that music comes with Blaine, and his heart singing the same exact tune.

"Oh, that's easy," Kurt says with a teasing grin tickling his lips. "I love cheesecake. And I love the feeling of satin on my skin, especially when it comes with an Alexander McQueen label sewn into the seam. I love the smell of wood smoke, and the sunlight on my face. And cursing." Kurt chuckles. "I love _fucking_ cursing." Kurt turns his face from the light to look at Blaine, whose gaze has fallen as well as his smile. He's biting his lower lip and staring at the sand, composing intricate patterns in the cold crust of salt with his finger, drawing hearts and connecting stars on the outskirts. "Except, all of those things could be gone tomorrow, and I wouldn't care an inch because the only thing in this world I really, truly love is you. You, Blaine Anderson. You and only you."

Blaine's smile slowly rises back to his lips and Kurt loves it, how quickly he can make that smile return. It's the only magic Kurt possesses, but he could cast that spell every minute of every day and never tire of it.

"And…what do you miss the most?" Blaine asks, gaze returning to Kurt's eyes, reluctantly, afraid that the things Kurt misses might outweigh the things he loves.

"I miss…" Kurt chews on the question, even though the answer is simple. He mulls it over because he knows what Blaine will think the second he says it. But it's not in Kurt's nature to lie, especially not to Blaine. "My wings," Kurt sighs, dropping his head back on his shoulders and staring up at the sky. "I miss my wings. I miss the freedom they gave me, flying through the air, soaring, being invisible to the world because no one sees angels anymore."

"No one?" Blaine asks, a trifle smug.

Kurt smirks at Blaine's human arrogance, his conceit. Kurt loves it. It might be considered a sin, Blaine's occasional pride, but the thought that Kurt's sweet, adorable, kindhearted Blaine could be a sinner…Kurt loves that, too.

"Well, almost no one," Kurt chuckles, letting go of Blaine's hand to throw his arm around his shoulders and hold him close. "I think you're expecting some sort of medal or something."

"No," Blaine says. "Although…a medal might be nice. You know how much I love a good accessory."

"Stick to bowties," Kurt says, giving Blaine a squeeze. "It's the classic."

Blaine snuggles into Kurt's side, resting his head against Kurt's shoulder where he can feel Kurt's cheek against his forehead. Kurt feels Blaine's heavy sigh, and he knows a big question is coming.

"Do you miss…living in Grace?" Blaine asks. He never has before, and Kurt never talks about it. But it has to be something Kurt thinks about. How could he not?

Kurt snaps his head suddenly, pushing Blaine a little away to look into his eyes.

"No," Kurt says, using a slight whisper, as if he's afraid someone will overhear, "because I don't know for certain that it's not there, and neither do you. Nobody does so don't talk about it." Kurt finishes with a locking gesture over his lips.

Blaine nods, and Kurt pulls him back into his one-arm embrace. Blaine slips a hand under Kurt's shirt to run his fingers across Kurt's shoulder blades, touching the spots where his wings once were, where they connected, where nothing remains but a sort of memorial tattoo that Kurt shows to no one.

No one but Blaine.

"Would you…"

"Take it all back if I could?" Kurt finishes.

"You know, it's kind of frustrating how you keep doing that," Blaine says.

"I thought people in love were supposed to finish one another's sentences," Kurt remarks, kissing Blaine lightly on the forehead.

"Yes," Blaine agrees, "but you do it all the time."

"That's because you're predictable."

"Nice," Blaine answers.

" _And_ you ask it all the damn time," Kurt says, giggling over his ability to use the word _damn_ as an adjective.

"Well, it's still kind of a difficult thing to believe," Blaine says. "I mean, I've dated five men in my life, and I could barely get two of them to hold the door open for me. But you…you fell for me. Literally, fell for me."

"Yup," Kurt says, trying on _pride_ for himself. "And I'd do it again."

"Would you really?" Blaine asks, still a bit in awe.

A year to the day later and very much in awe.

"Every day," Kurt says. "Falling hurt, Blaine. It hurt like hell. But knowing I had you to help me to my feet again, it was the best feeling in the world."

"And to think," Blaine says, dropping his eyes bashfully, his face warming from Kurt's words despite the persistent chill in the air, "the only thing I had to offer you at the time was cheesecake."

"Hey, don't knock cheesecake." Kurt turns to face Blaine, putting his back to the blessed sun and the magnificent ocean so he can kiss his husband full on the lips. "I love it only a little less than I love you."


	2. Living Without

**Even though Kurt has told Blaine a hundred times that he has no regrets, the loss of his husband's wings weighs heavy on Blaine's heart.**

 ** _***Okay, so I'm super super behind on the dragon!Kurt fic that I'm writing for the wonderful sunshineoptimismandangels on tumblr, and I wanted to write something else for her in the interim. And I don't know why at all, but this popped into my head. Warning, it's a little angsty, and dwells into some religious issues, but I think it's kind of sweet._ _Warning for sexual content, mention of Blaine's Sadie Hawkins experience, mention of the shooting in Orlando, mention of Blaine's dad being homophobic._**

It makes Blaine sad sometimes.

It shouldn't. Kurt has told him enough times that he has no regrets, and that brings Blaine comfort.

But then again - and Blaine hates that he thinks this way, hates the doubt - how can Kurt _not_?

Kurt gave up so much to be with Blaine. How does he not regret that? Even a little?

Blaine never saw Kurt's wings. That isn't to say that Kurt didn't have them when they met, but Kurt was Divine. Therefore his wings were Divine. And even though, through some special ability, some rare indefinable link, Blaine was able to see Kurt, Kurt's wings remained invisible. Blaine thought that, once or twice, he could see the shadow the wings cast, but it was only because he _wanted_ to see them so badly.

Kurt has described them for Blaine. He's told him that they're not like anything Blaine has ever seen in pictures or on television. No human being has the capacity to envision what an angel's wings actually look like. In fact, every day, as Kurt becomes more human and farther removed from the angel he was, his own recollection of his wings frays. They've become for him a distant memory - a warm, fuzzy haze, like sunlight seen through early morning mist – present in the mind for recollection, but blurry around the edges. Recognizable, but intangible and unclear.

When Blaine brings it up, asking Kurt to talk about them, to tell him the story of them like a fairytale of the past, Kurt does so with increasing nostalgia in his eyes, and it's begun to break Blaine's heart.

How could Kurt do it? How could he carve off such a significant part of himself just to be with Blaine?

When Blaine thinks of the things he himself has, the very mortal things that he might have had to give up for Kurt if their positions had been reversed, they number among the most priceless of his possessions.

His hands.

His voice.

His sight.

His hearing.

Blaine would have done it for Kurt. He would have done it in a second.

But Kurt's wings. His magnificent wings gone so he can spend the next forty to sixty years on Earth, slowly dying inside a mortal shell _just_ to be with Blaine?

It doesn't seem like an even exchange to Blaine.

This heaviness weighing down Blaine's soul becomes worse at moments like the one they're sharing now, when Kurt is above him, beautiful and naked and (it would seem) blissfully happy. Piecing together descriptions that Kurt has given him, Blaine tries to picture Kurt's wings, the multitude of them, stretching out from his back, powerful and strong, glimmering white as the first winter snow, reflecting light like a prism as he soars through the air.

Blaine gets so lost in his vision of them that he stops moving, captivated by the realization of exactly what he's doing.

Making love to a former angel of God.

Kurt feels Blaine go still, but he doesn't stop. He looks down at his lover, catches the expression of wonder in his gaze, and rolls his eyes.

"Blaine," Kurt says, snapping his fingers in front of Blaine's face. "Earth to Blaine, come in Blaine."

Blaine flinches at Kurt's fingers snapping an inch from his nose. "Wha-what is it? What's wrong? Why did you stop?"

"I didn't stop," Kurt accuses. " _You_ stopped."

"I…I didn't…"

"I know what you're thinking," Kurt teases, his voice frozen between a laugh and a moan.

"And how do you know?" Blaine answers, the back of his fingers trailing up Kurt's sides, then rounding to caress the recesses of his spine.

"Because it's what you're _always_ thinking."

Blaine is about to ask, but he knows that he's only prolonging this game of back and forth, of which Kurt is already the winner. Kurt always wins, because he always knows. He reads Blaine like a book, and he doesn't need to be Divine to do it.

"I can't help it," Blaine confesses, eyes drifting to his hands, tracking their path on Kurt's skin. "I mean, I never saw them but…I imagine them. What they must have looked like. And sometimes, when I look at you, I feel like…"

Kurt tilts his head and blinks, innocently curious even considering the situation they're both currently in.

"What?" Kurt asks, raising a hand to brush his bangs from his forehead.

"Like…" Blaine doesn't want to say it. It sounds awful in his head. How will it sound if he lets the words out? "Like…something's…missing."

"Blaine…" Kurt takes a deep breath. He's not offended. He's not hurt. But he feels like he's running out of ways to explain to Blaine how much he means to him. "I know I gave up my wings when I fell to Earth. But I didn't lose anything. Not really. And even if I did, I gained back so much more."

An unhappy smile lifts Blaine's lips. "Like cheesecake?"

Kurt groans. Blaine talks about Kurt's love of cheesecake like he's a ten slice a day addict. "Like you, silly, and everything you've given me."

The unhappy smile fades, but no happier smile comes to take its place. "I still find it difficult to believe that I can give you anything."

"And why is that?"

"Because…I mean…" Blaine's eyes dart up and down his own body, searching for an answer. "Well, look at me."

The grin that grows on Kurt's face is far from angelic. "I _am_."

"I'm only human. What do I really have to offer you?"

"Aha…" Kurt slides forward, thoughtfully resting his head and hands on Blaine's chest without shifting an inch that might dislodge the man from inside of him. "And who made you human?"

"Well, until recently, I thought it might have been some sort of cosmic fluke," Blaine says bitterly. "But now that I've met you, I think the answer you're looking for is _God_?"

"Aha," Kurt continues, ignoring the round-about and slightly insulting way that Blaine answered. "And didn't God make humanity in his own image?"

Blaine's body slumps as much as it can with him already lying on his back on the floor. He's not particularly fond of talking about religion, and frankly, this doesn't seem like the time or the situation. But Kurt relaxes over Blaine's body, willing to wait as long as it takes for an answer.

Kurt had confided in Blaine that he was an angel when they met, and was eventually able to make Blaine believe him, but they didn't discuss religion right away. Kurt felt in Blaine much conflict regarding the subject, and he wanted to give Blaine the time he needed to resolve it. Not until they came across an old King James Version of the Bible while trolling a thrift store for vintage bowties did they even touch upon it. That's when Blaine confessed that despite meeting Kurt, he still found it hard to believe. Kurt bought that copy of the Bible, and went over it with Blaine word for word, writing corrections in the margins. And whereas he explained to Blaine that the Bible _is_ the word of God, it was written down by man, and man is fallible, so 90% of it is bullshit (he spat out the word with a gleeful chuckle). But there is still much truth in it.

Killing people is bad.

Stealing, also wrong.

Adultery is highly frowned upon.

Honoring thy mother and thy father is a good thing…unless they themselves are backward asshats. In which case, focus entirely on being a well-rounded human being and move on with your life as soon as possible the way you would in the face of any other toxic relationship.

And - God made man in his own image.

"I guess so," Blaine says shyly. Religion, and the existence of a God entity, is still a concept that Blaine is not entirely comfortable with. Blaine was raised Catholic. He read the Bible, went to church every Sunday, partook in the more popularly recognized of the sacraments. But coming out in high school, and growing up gay in a small-minded city and an intolerant society, pretty much destroyed his belief in a benevolent God.

How could God allow the kind of hate that would cause a group of teenagers to beat the crap out of him simply because he liked guys?

How could God allow Blaine's father to go from seeing his son as a shining star to picking him apart daily? Outlining all of his flaws? Treating him like an object, a broken car whose timing was off and needed to be tuned up?

How could God allow a man with a shotgun to walk into a night club and kill 49 innocent people? People who were guilty of simply enjoying the life that he himself had given them?

Kurt didn't have an answer for any of that. He said that, as an angel, he didn't question God's plan. Kurt admitted that not being able to understand made him furious from time to time, but he had to trust. He had seen faith perform miracles, do wondrous and amazing things. He had to believe in his heart that God hadn't abandoned humanity to suffer the remainder of their existence without his love and guidance, the way so many people on Earth already felt he had.

Kurt believed it so honestly that it made Blaine want to believe, too. Meeting Kurt, and learning that the things he used to believe in so strongly were true, meant coming to terms with the religion he had left behind.

That was almost as difficult, if not more so, than losing that faith in the first place.

"So how can you be so down on yourself?" Kurt asks. "How can you say that you are _only_ _human_ like it's some kind of a curse or a disease?"

"Because…" Blaine traps his lip between his teeth before he says anything else. He doesn't want to admit that it's because now that he knows for certain that there is an omnipotent creator existing somewhere in the heavens, Blaine kind of hates him.

But Blaine doesn't have to say it. Just like everything else that Kurt seems to know before Blaine says a single word, he knows this.

"Even if you weren't created in the image on an all mighty deity, you're still _you,_ Blaine. You're incredible. Magnanimous. You create beautiful music. You add joy to the world. You're kind, compassionate, generous…you're one-of-a-kind. Blaine…" Kurt lifts up enough to rest his lips against Blaine's mouth. It's barely a kiss, but it's a connection. "You're more than worth falling for. You're definitely worth more than a pair of wings."

Blaine sighs, his lips against Kurt's, so easy to kiss, and he does, over and over.

"Do you mean…"

"…yes I mean that, Blaine!" Kurt chuckles. "I always do! Every time! And nothing you can say will ever make that different." Kurt kisses Blaine soft. He kisses him deep. He kisses him and lets his words blend in between. "I love you, Blaine. I love you….I love you...I love you. And believe it or not, that's all I really ever had. Losing my wings was a consequence of falling, but they were never truly mine to begin with. But my love for you, that's the only thing that's mine. That's all I have to offer."

"And I'll take it," Blaine says, finally coming to peace with this even after he'd sworn he had a dozen times. "Every day. It's all you'll ever need to give me."


End file.
